Page 11 of Shadows of the Soul

I pierced the needle into the scruff of Wendy’s neck and plunged the medication into her. She whined, before going lax in Hudson’s arms. He never took his eyes off me.

“Take her to the pack house. Put Shirley with Laura and Wendy on her own until we assess her.”

I leaned back on my haunches. “You aren’t killing them?” Wildies were always killed, it was pack law. They couldn’t risk being exposed to the world.

He shook his head and stood. “These are settled, even-tempered shifters. They have no reason to turn into a wildie.”

“Weird shit always happens around you,” Dave commented as I stood.

“The weird shit only happens to me when you are around. I’d take a long hard look at yourself before pointing your paws at me.”

I replaced the cap on the syringe and headed to the back door.

“Cora,” Hudson said. “We aren’t finished.”

“Oh, but we are. I don’t sleep with people that can’t trust me.”

I waltzed out of the stables and left a tiny piece of my heart in the stables. The Terror of Tennessee had snuck in when I wasn’t looking and stolen it, but I wasn’t hanging around to let him take any more. Damn blueberry pancakes.

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Here I go again… with a psycho stalker shifter. Wait, that’s not how the song goes.

There were a thousand things more appealing than my current night time activity—speed dating with strangers. Was there a website where organizers get these ridiculous questions? Because nobody, not even Maggie, could come up with this nonsense. How will knowing what color best describes my personality narrow down my match? And if you could narrow down your personality to one color, surely you were boring as shit. The more pertinent question was: how can I get out of this? Perhaps a nice grisly murder would need my specific skill set. Rescued by homicide.

“Black,” I stated to Seth, the weaselly wide-eyed twenty-year-old fox shifter. He swallowed and glanced around like the goth police would be here any second to rescue his twitchy ass. Too bad, Seth. The law enforcement here are sympathetic to the woman who can aid them in their more serious cases, namely death. Yes, I’m living up to my ‘black’ personality. Perhaps I’ll have a chat with the dead next. With comedic timing, Harry floated into the room and stopped behind Seth with a perplexed expression. I took a sip of my fruity low alcohol wine. We wanted the guests relaxed, not drunk. This wasn’t The Pit.

“In my day we courted a lady with escorted walks and flowers, not twenty questions wanting to know if you had three wishes from a genie what they would be?” Harry lamented. Oh, Harry, how I wish the dating scene was still that way.

A true gentleman of his time, Harry had been murdered in spectacular fashion by an elemental while hosting a ‘Helping Vampires to Blend into Society’ meeting in a church. Harry found his way to me and stuck around. Most of the dead didn’t. They were happy to pass on to the next life. In fact, Harry was the first to refuse, claiming I needed his fatherly advice and guidance. My father was and always had been absent, so perhaps he had a point. Being raised by a brood of aunts, I possibly lacked in skills when it came to the opposite sex.

The buzzer sounded, and I flicked my wrist to check my watch, but I’d removed it with the encouragement of Maggie and Rebecca, swapping it out for an emerald bracelet which matched my dress. I’d definitely been here an hour, maybe more. I caught Maggie’s eyes. She gave me a wave with a big smile plastered on her face. A sigh escaped me. I couldn’t say no to that girl. The thirty males stood and rotated to the next female. Maggie’s speed dating night for the supernatural community was a success. We’d needed to use the front reception rooms and the dining room to accommodate the party. It was good business sense. The next time they recommended somewhere to stay, we might be at the top of their list.

Rebecca quirked a brow from her perch across the room as a big guy with shoulder-length shaggy blond hair folded himself into the seat opposite her. She leaned around him. “Smile,” she mouthed.

I rolled my eyes and redoubled my efforts to appear approachable.

“Damn, is that your sexy smile?” A familiar deep voice stated. “Because your vibe says you want to murder someone, not date them.”

My eyes snapped to Hudson. “No, nope, not happening, move on,” I commanded.

The chair creaked as he leaned back and made himself comfy. “Is this a habit?” he drawled, his southern lilting accent like warm whisky. “Attending speed dating events?”

I ground my jaw and crumpled the paper in my hand. “You tell me, you are here every time I am. Shifter honeys not chasing your tail or do you prefer it when they roll over and show their bellies?”

He grinned, making the hair on the nape of my neck prickle with awareness. All teeth. All beast. A slither of human. “None I’m interested in, I find myself drawn to red-headed little witches with a martyr complex and a bad attitude.”

I leaned over the tiny table and crooked my index finger at him. He mirrored me. Hook, line, and sinker. “But I’m not interested in you,” I breathed. His eyes dipped to my lips, and he smirked. Why me? Meghan and Kate get princes, Bella gets Edward, meanwhile I get lumbered with an arrogant psycho stalker shifter.

“Oh, Cora, if only that were true. Pick a man, any man, take him out on a date and prove to me how uninterested you are.”

Harry frowned. “Persistent, isn’t he?”

“I don’t want any man.”

Hudson tilted his head in a distinctly feline gesture. “Because you want me.”

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